


And There Was No Danger

by sarkywoman



Category: Marvel
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 07:59:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16970769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarkywoman/pseuds/sarkywoman
Summary: For the stark bingo square 'fluff', which I'm really bad at! Tony enjoys a pleasant morning in his new life.





	And There Was No Danger

His face is cold when he wakes. The fire died in the hearth overnight and the only heat left is below the furs they use as blankets. Tony turns and presses his bearded face to the back of his love’s pale neck. Even after all these years he marvels at her warmth, given her heritage.

Loki stirs with a grumble. It is not clear whether the objection is to the bristles against her sensitive neck or the persistent nudging elsewhere of Tony’s morning arousal. She twists onto her back and scowls at him.

“Must you rise so early?”

He cannot stifle his laugh at the double entendre that, judging from her frown, was entirely unintentional.

“You are a pest,” she mutters.

“But you love me,” he says.

“More fool me.”

The kiss they share then proves the words little more than harmless banter, loving brushes of lip and tongue that move with less urgency than years prior, but no less passion. The same description can be given of the hands worn by hard work that graze their calluses knowingly down supernaturally soft skin. Familiarity has not bred contempt here, but has instead built an intimacy that neither of them has known with any other. Tony knows he will never know it with anyone else. 

What he does not realise is that Loki does not expect to either. She has known enough loves to know that this is something that cannot be improved upon or replaced.

They make love until the night outside their little home begins to lighten. The sun will soon be rising on the horizon. This life is no less busy than the others they have tried and Tony Starksson will be called upon to make his brilliant weapons of war. His anvil and coals are worlds away from his robotics laboratory, but he likes it that way.

For now. 

Now he does not fear threats from beyond the world, does not wake in the night with a scream in his throat, does not spend all his days glued to five separate screens of information about danger, danger, danger…

Instead he curls around his beautiful goddess in a world unimaginably quiet. Yes, there are battles sometimes. Often far from him due to his skillset but sometimes he gets his hands dirty. He has new scars and has proven his worth to their marauding friends. But most of his life now is this. 

Peace. 

“You’re deep in thought, my love,” Loki murmurs, kissing his forehead.

Pushing himself up on his elbows, Tony looks over the raven locks that fan out over the handmade pillow under her head. The unnaturally red lips and green eyes and the body that makes him the envy of all his fellows. 

“Do we have to go back?” He asks quietly.

“One day,” she says, twining her fingers with his. “But it need not be soon. And it need not be forever.”

“I might hold you to that,” Tony says with a grin.

“You may hold me to whatever you like,” Loki purrs.

With a youthful giggle Tony kisses her again and again, only stopping when their eldest son calls them to make them aware that the chief is waiting on him by the forge. 

When Tony has dressed in his furs and leathers he leaves his love and his sons in their safe little home and ventures out into the brisk morning. A lungful of cold air free from pollution, with a faint hint of fish being cooked for breakfast, gets him living in the moment quicker than any self-help book or meditation app. 

Perhaps he is a one-trick-pony, he muses, as he makes his way towards the forge. He drifts towards making things. Dangerous, wonderful things. But why change a winning formula? It works whenever and wherever they go. They adapt to the technology and the society and they impress. They live.

The chief is a broad, intimidating man, gregarious to his friends and terrifying to his enemies. He beams when he sees Tony. “There is my blessed master of crafts!”

Blessed.

Tony smiles back. With days and nights like these, he cannot really argue with that.


End file.
